


In the Shadows of the Stone

by GraphiteHeron



Category: Dragon Age
Genre: Badly-executed dom/sub, Dwarves in a sexual situation, Is there such a thing as gift-porn?, M/M, PWP
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-09-22
Updated: 2011-09-22
Packaged: 2017-10-23 23:21:38
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,523
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/256224
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/GraphiteHeron/pseuds/GraphiteHeron
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sort of like a Dragon Age Romeo-and-Juliet, only Juliet is also male and Romeo works for the Carta instead of a rival family.  Alard Aeducan and Faren Brosca both know they'll both be in deadly trouble if they ever get caught, but it isn't as if love cares about gender or social strata.</p>
            </blockquote>





	In the Shadows of the Stone

**Author's Note:**

  * For [](https://archiveofourown.org/gifts).



> I hadn't planned on posting this, but... Anon1879, my friend, this is for you. Alternatively, this is dedicated to every Dragon Age fan who ever said dwarves could never be sexy because they're dwarves; you all inspired this. Anti-dwarf racists and homophobes may wish to turn back. To everyone else, I hope you enjoy my insomniac ramblings!

Alard Aeducan is fairly certain that most members of his family would shit rocks if they knew what he was up to right now.

 

It wouldn’t be any great offense to his family if he were sneaking a female duster up to his room. It would be encouraged, in fact, if he could find a noble-hunter and get her pregnant with his son. However, Faren isn’t female. Still a duster, but not a female.

 

The prince tangles the fingers of both hands in his lover’s dark hair while they kiss, shoulders pressing back into the door of his room. The geometric designs carved into the stone door press uncomfortably into his skin where his shirt hangs unfastened and half off.

 

A rough-worn hand closes over Alard’s burgeoning erection and he whimpers shamelessly, bucking into the contact. Faren chuckles quietly, strong, deft hands expertly picking apart Alard’s clothing and then his own. They leave a trail of clothing on the way to Alard’s bed.

 

They trade places sometimes. Alard has been inside of Faren and Faren has been inside of Alard. This time, Alard isn’t in the mood to take control and doesn’t even put up a token struggle when Faren shoves him back onto the bed.

 

Faren’s a beautiful mess, black hair tangled from Alard’s grip and eyes dark with predatory lust. His powerful jaw bristles with stubble but no beard, accented by the casteless brand on his right cheek. The duster is malnourished and pale but strong, corded muscles rippling under flesh scarred by a hard life as a Carta tough.

 

Alard likes the contrast, Faren’s hands on him, pale skin on dark skin. Alard’s complexion is more nut brown, and he’s better fed but not nearly as strong as the duster holding him down and pinning him to his own mattress.

 

“You’re submissive today,” Faren pokes, lining their cocks up and pressing his hips down. The friction makes Alard squirm and spread his legs, sliding his thighs around Faren’s thick, powerful torso.

 

“I’m in that kind of mood,” Alard replies, groaning at another slow thrust. “Runa and I are getting military commissions in two days. I’m going to be giving orders, leading men, be in charge. So, for right now, maybe I want to take a few orders.”

 

The duster’s grin is feral as he yanks Alard’s face up for a kiss by his intricately braided beard.

 

“Well then,” Faren growls when they part. “Then I suppose you’d better listen, Prince. I’m going to lay back on this bed of yours, and you’re going to suck me until I say you can stop. Then you’re going to ride me. Understand?”

 

Alard whimpers, nodding. That low, dangerous growl goes straight to his groin. Faren crawls over him to lie down, head on the pillows, hands behind his head, looking for all the world like he belongs there. And if Alard had any say in anything, he would belong there. But dwarves are dwarves and the culture is not likely to change any time soon.

 

Faren is mostly hard when Alard lowers his head to take the duster into his mouth. Alard can feel the rest of the tight stiffness settle in when he starts sucking.

 

“Ah yeah, that’s good,” Faren mumbles, shifting his hips but never thrusting up – for which Alard is greatful, because a length and girth like Faren’s would choke him if Faren didn’t have so much control. “Just like that. Mm, you know just how to please a man, don’t you?”

 

Alard hums around the shaft in his mouth, pumping with his hand what he can’t swallow while his tongue does hopefully clever things to the head of Faren’s cock. Faren lets him lick and slurp for a while longer and then grabs him by the hair, pulling Alard off his cock with a wet pop.

 

“Good boy. Now ride me.”

 

Eager, Alard shimmies up Faren’s body and straddles his hips, sliding back onto his shaft with a low moan. Though lacking in preparation, Faren’s cock is spit-slick and Alard’s body swallows it easily, all the way down to the base.

 

Stretched, filled, full, Alard rocks forward and back, impaling himself enthusiastically. The hot slide of hard, fevered flesh in and out of his body is pure ecstasy, and if he moves at just the right angle, he can make Faren’s cock slide over just the right spot to make stars explode in his vision.

 

“Mm, you ride cock like you love it,” Faren comments.

 

“I do,” Alard sighs, bracing his hands on Faren’s abdomen so that he can balance to rock faster. “I love to ride cock. I love to ride your cock. Ooh, yes!”

 

Faren watches Alard ride him for a good while more, then pats his hip to make him pause. “Geroff. Onto your belly; I’m going to take you ‘til you scream for me.”

 

“Please,” Alard adds. Probably unnecessary, given that Faren has already promised to do it, but the prince is in a needy, submissive sort of mood.

 

They usually struggle for dominance, but this time Alard does exactly what he’s ordered to do. He climbs up off of Faren and lies down on his belly, weight on his knees and hips helpfully raised for ease of access.

 

Faren gets behind him, sinking home with an appreciative groan. “Good boy, good boy. Now keep being a good boy, and don’t finish until I say you can.”

 

The words have the potential to be demeaning, but Faren’s tone of voice is strangely fond and that fondness takes the bite out of the orders.

 

Slap. Slap. Slap. Slap, slap, slap-slap-slap…

 

Faren’s rhythm starts slow and quickly speeds up, balls slapping hard against Alard’s ass as he pounds the prince into the mattress, cock whipping in and out so fast that Alard can’t even scream to the right tempo. Alard settles on a series of short, sharp cries.

 

The ecstasy washes through him, because this is perfect. This is exactly how Alard wanted to be taken, wanted to be fucked senseless – hard, fast, and Faren grabs a handful of his hair and pulls, and it’s almost painful, just this side of too much and it’s wonderful.

 

He can feel Faren swelling inside him, body tightening up and then yes. The duster shatters with a hoarse cry, flooding Alard’s flushed and slightly bruised body with hot spend. Faren slows to a stop, panting. He lets go of Alard’s hair, strokes over the finger-shaped bruises in his hip and back.

 

“Turn over,” he orders gently, all the brute dominance run out of him. Alard complies, rolling onto his back. He’s rewarded with a tender kiss, all softness now that Faren’s needs have been sated. “You are…something else, my prince.”

 

Faren kisses his way down Alard’s body.

 

“Oh, and you can finish whenever you’re ready.”

 

That said, Faren closes his mouth around Alard’s cock. The slick, wet heat and suction are incredible, and it isn’t long before Alard is babbling something about being close and then it’s his turn to shatter. Moaning delicately, Faren sucks him dry and swallows every bit of seed.

 

Sweaty and sated, the dwarves lay together for a while. Not that either will admit to the post-coital cuddling if asked, or enjoying the closeness immensely. Alard knows he’ll have to get up in a little while. He needs to clean up the semen leaking out of his body and he needs to sneak Faren back out of the palace.

 

“I wish we didn’t have to sneak around,” Alard murmurs at length, tucking his head under Faren’s chin. “I wish we didn’t have a Dusttown, that the nobles would stop being blind and stupid and stubborn.”

 

“They think we’re a threat,” Faren mumbles, sleepy but keeping himself awake. Sleep might be fatal, if he dozes off and gets caught by a royal guard. Or even one of Alard’s siblings.

Alard’s twin sister Runa might not do anything about Faren’s presence. Bhelen would report him, however, and Trian would cut the duster’s head off personally.

 

“Idiots. How can they talk so loudly about the dwindling population and throw out an entire population for the crime of being born?”

 

“Tradition.”

 

“There comes a point when traditionalist zealotry starts destroying our culture.”

 

Faren chuckles, tipping Alard’s face up for another tender kiss. The afterglow is always like this, no matter how rough or aggressive they are during sex. Alard feels the flutter of affection in his chest and it’s followed by the painful stab of cold reality.

 

He loves Faren, he really does. But Alard is an Aeducan prince and Faren is a casteless duster. Moreover, they’re both male. Rumor has it that the humans on the surface are a lot more lax about this sort of thing, but in a culture with a dying population?

 

Maybe someday they’ll have an opportunity to run. Topside, maybe. But in the meantime, they both have family. Faren has a sister he needs to take care of and a best friend he considers a brother that he needs to keep alive. And Alard has his family and his duties as an Aeducan.


End file.
